


The Wednesday Warrior

by Brennan4



Series: Don't Feed the Plants [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bisexual Character, Homophobic Language, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 16:25:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10880553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brennan4/pseuds/Brennan4
Summary: Norman North always wanted to be a comic book writer as a kid. Now that he's the editor of a major comic book company, but the difficulties of the job make him wonder why he wanted it in the first place.





	The Wednesday Warrior

Sometimes Norman wondered if he should quit his job. He did this most often while stuck in traffic on his way to that job, like he was right now. He struggled to find one reason to keep doing this nonsense. Ever since he was a kid, he wanted to write comic books. When he grew up, he got to do just that, which was great. The only problem was he felt like the editor and his corporate overlords were restricting his creativity. So he became Chief Editor at New Wave Comics. Now instead of writing comics, he told other people how to write comics.

It wasn’t the same, and they never listened to him anyway.

He got to his office much later than he intended. As if to mock his lateness, his secretary Ryan said, “Happy Wednesday, Mr. North.”

Wednesdays were a big day for them, as it was the day all new comics were released. They finally got to see what sold and what didn’t and decided whether months of hard work were a waste of time. Today was a particularly important Wednesday.

“You have your meeting with the toy people at 11:00.” said Ryan. “Then at 1:00 you’re having lunch with Alex Avery.”

Norman groaned. “Do I have to?”

Ryan shrugged. “He’s the most successful writer of the last 20 years.”

“He spent the last 10 years finding new and exciting ways to lose his mind. He’s a racist jerk and I don’t want to do it.”

“You have to.” Ryan scolded. “That’s why corporate pays you the big bucks, so they don’t have to talk to him. “

Norman groaned again. “Fine. The media started talking about the Windrider thing yet?”

“People haven’t had time to read the book yet. We’re closely watching social media.”

The thing that made this Wednesday so important, why he’d been anticipating with hope and dread for months, was that this month’s issue of Windrider would have the beloved superhero come out as gay. Over the last few years the comic industry had been pushing more and more LGBT representation, and most of the time it went over well. Sometimes there was fan backlash, which was very hard for them to deal with. Since Windrider was one of their most popular characters, doing this was a major risk.

The toy meeting was presented by the typical pack of corporate number crunchers, pasty white men wearing the same suit. Norman never got tired of the contrast between the colorful heroes his company created and the soulless goons who sold them. He struggled through 45 minutes of marketing research, trend analysis, and demographics that brought back awful memories of how he barely got his business degree. Finally they got to the only part that really interested him, the two prototypes of the newest action figures.

“Our first figure is of Bloodgore, capitalizing on that resurgence of 90’s nostalgia we were talking about said one of the corporate drones. He handed Norman the heavy lump of plastic.

Norman didn’t care too much for grim, violent, overwritten characters like Bloodgore, but they were very popular in the 90s and he still had a cult following to this day. He moved the arms and legs of the figure, testing the joints. He slid his finger over the figure’s spiky shoulders when the tip of a spike drove right into his finger.

“Fuck!” he screamed in pain as he dropped the prototype to the floor. “That really hurt. Jesus”

One of the drones almost showed a hint of emotion. “Are you alright? Are you bleeding?”

“I don’t think so,” hissed Norman. Hurts like a bitch though. Who designs a toy that hurts people?”

“We’ll do some more testing.” said the drone. “But if it didn’t break the skin it isn’t a liability.”

“Whatever, show me the other one.”

A drone handed him the second figure, based on his favorite superhero Flaregirl. She was an enormous inspiration to him when he was a kid. He didn’t care that sometimes friends made fun of him for liking a girl. She was the coolest character, he would tell them. Doesn’t matter if she’s a girl. Cool is cool.

He looked the figure over and a frown sank across his face. “What’s wrong with her anatomy?”

“What do you mean?” asked the drone.

“This isn’t what Flaregirl looks like. Her stomach is too thin and her breasts are too big.”

“It makes her more appealing, sir.” replied the drone.

“What do you mean?”

“According to surveys, it makes her sexier.”

Norman sank back in his chair. He wanted to jump in front of a train and he hadn’t even met Alex Avery yet.

Avery insisted on meeting him in a dreary bar that was filled with smoke despite the fact that barely anyone was here. The stench of tobacco reminded him of his ancient aunt Judith, whose cheek-pinching tendencies he was previously reminded of when pe stabbed his finger on the Bloodgore figure.

Norman got the distinct impression that Avery spent too much time at the bar, because the bartender gave him his drink without asking him anything.

“What have you got for me, Alex” asked Norman, enjoying the last few seconds of peace he had before Avery started talking to him.

“I want to push boundaries, ask the questions nobody is brave enough to ask.”said Avery in a hoarse voice.  
“What sort of questions?” Norman hoped he was masking the dread he felt regarding the answer to that question.

“Why is are people afraid of the truth?” For a second Norman had a flicker of hope,as that actually seemed like an interesting question. Then Avery elaborated. “Why do people hide behind political correctness. Why do people believe everything the government tells them about the moon landing? Why don’t people talk about the geniuses trying to build a libertarian paradise in the ocean out of shipping containers?”

Norman was thankful that the meeting took place somewhere with easy access to alcohol, as he couldn’t have gotten through avery’s pitches without it. Highlights included a pitch about a vegetarian supervillain, a story where the Hindenburgh crash would be revealed to be an inside job, and a comic about a brave activist who has the courage to tell teenagers on Twitter how stupid they are.

Finally Norman was able to leave, the last hour feeling like hit had lasted for six. He was still a little tipsy when he got back to his office., so he was caught off guard when Ryan pulled him aside.

“Have you been reading social media?” asked Ryan frantically.

“Not really. They talking about the Windrider thing?”

“Yeah, something’s gone wrong.”

Norman had trusted a writer named Richard Reynolds to write the Windrider story, forgetting Rider’s occasional habit of putting last minute changes in the script without telling his editors. Apparently he had done that again, and the Windrider story went a little differently than what Norman had approved. A scene was added where Windrider’s sidekick, Gale, asked the hero if he might be bisexual. Windrider told him that bisexuals didn’t exist, and were just people who couldn’t make up their minds.

The Internet’s reaction was less than kind.  
“We have to do something about this.” said Norman. “I need to talk to someone in the media as soon as possible.”

Ryan thumbed through contacts on his phone. “We were planning to put you in touch with major news sites, but that was when we thought the story would be about how brave we were for pushing the envelope. Now we need to do disaster control.”

“Try Sarah Summers at Progression.”

“Are you sure? They’re the most liberal, outspoken site in the comic book community. They’re furious about this.”

“That’s why it needs to be her.”

Ryan managed to get a hold of Sarah, who seemed really curious about how Norman was going to get himself out of this one. She cut through the typical lines about New Wave’s commitment to diversity, their history of representing minority groups, and all of the other stuff the corporate drones insisted he mention on these kinds of events.

“There’s no way out of this for you,” said Sarah. “I’m willing to believe that Reynolds made one of his last minute changes, but the public won’t care. You need to do something to make everyone think your company doesn’t hate bisexuals.”

Norman released his biggest, most exhausted sigh of the day. He knew what he had to do. “We don’t hate bisexuals. I would never run a company that discriminates against them.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“I’ve never told anyone this, so please treat it as sensitively as you can. I’m bisexual.”

Sarah was quiet for a second. “That had better be true.”

“I dated a guy from my business classes 10 years ago. We were very close. He died. Car crash. I don’t like to talk about it. I’m as mad about this as anyone else.”

“I’ll see what I can do for you.” said Sarah, and she hung up.

After the work day finally came to a merciful end, Norman decided he would pass on the congested, rush hour commute home, and spent the evening in the park a few blocks from New Wave’s office. It had been a rough day, and fresh air was just what he needed. The only silver lining to the Windrider debacle was Alex Avery’s outspoken criticism of comic companies “turning characters into poofs” so maybe he wouldn’t have any more meetings with him.

He saw a girl, probably about 14 years old, sitting on a bench reading a comic. She looked up as he passed by and jumped off the bench. “I know you! You’re the guy in charge of New Wave! I saw you at Comic Con last year.”

Norman smiled. He didn’t get recognized on public very often. “Yep, that’s me. What are you reading.”

The girl showed him the book in his hand. She was holding the latest issue of Flaregirl. “She’s my favorite.”

Norman said, “Mine too.”

“She’s a big inspiration. No matter how tough things get, she keeps fighting the good fight. Makes me want to do the same.

Norman decided he had found one reason to keep doing this nonsense.


End file.
